


By the Light of Lothal's Sun

by HixyStix



Series: Hot Bahryn ‘verse [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Battle as foreplay, M/M, Mutual Pining, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25831153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HixyStix/pseuds/HixyStix
Summary: After his encounter with Zeb on Geonosis's desert moon, Kallus has become a Rebel.In the lead-up to the liberation of Lothal, Zeb is stuck wondering if his new comrade remembers their stranding as fondly as he does, or if it was only ever a one-time thing for Kallus.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Series: Hot Bahryn ‘verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869340
Comments: 12
Kudos: 193





	By the Light of Lothal's Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sempaiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempaiko/gifts).



Jungles were wet, even temperate ones.

Zeb knew that, but it hadn’t occurred to him to expect quite so much rain on Yavin IV.

It certainly hadn’t occurred to him what a problem the rain would be.

He had plans that wet morning, but his companion hadn’t arrived yet. While he waited, Zeb stood out in the rain, staring up at the _Ghost_ ’s hyperdrive motivator, trying to figure out why it wasn’t communicating properly with Chopper’s operations port in the cockpit.

“At work already?” came a clipped, precisely accented voice from behind him.

Zeb turned, knowing what he’d see, bracing himself for it.

Kallus stood there, rain soaking into his shirt, leaning on an electrostaff. He was watching Zeb closely.

Zeb shrugged, feeling rain run down his back as he did so. “Couldn’t sleep,” he lied. “Thought I’d get started early.”

“I can’t steal you away for an hour?” Water ran down Kallus’s face, wet strands of hair sticking to his skin.

Zeb closed his eyes, seeing not the present Kallus, but Kallus as he was back on that moon, naked in the rain, that perfect mouth about to swallow–

“Yeah,” Zeb said, looking at Kallus again. “I can get away.”

“Good. I could use the exercise.”

“If you stopped working at a decent hour…” Zeb said, not needing to finish the familiar chastisement.

“The war doesn’t stop at dinnertime, Garazeb,” Kallus said, deadly serious. “Information crosses my desk at all hours.”

 _Doesn’t mean you have to be there,_ Zeb thought. “Lemme grab my bo-rifle.”

He slunk into the _Ghost_ , trying to be quiet so he didn’t wake anyone. If Ezra got up anytime before dawn, he’d be _horrible_ all day, and that was still half an hour away. And if Zeb disturbed Hera and Kanan, well, there would be hell to pay.

He slunk into his cabin quietly, making sure Ezra stayed asleep while Zeb pulled his bo-rifle from its spot on the wall.

Zeb hated that Kallus no longer had his bo-rifle, but the man was still deadly with an electrostaff. Ever since Kallus healed from Thrawn’s torture, he and Zeb had met most mornings to spar.

It would be a lie to say Zeb didn’t look forward to their morning meetings. It was refreshing to get out and practice with the bo-rifle against a skilled opponent, yes, but he had also grown to enjoy the time with Kallus himself.

The fondness he felt for Kallus had snuck up on Zeb over the last few months on Yavin IV. Before Atollon, he’d been grateful to Kallus for his work as Fulcrum and his efforts to help Phoenix Cell in general and the Spectres in specific, but grateful wasn’t…

Well, it wasn’t what he felt anymore. Gratefulness had quickly given way to a twisty feeling in Zeb’s stomach when he saw Kallus after Atollon: barely standing, bleeding and bruised, having been tortured for the sake of the Rebellion.

Their eyes had met in the hall of the _Ghost_ and Zeb had seen not the proud Imperial who’d chased them so long, but the softer man who’d kissed him goodbye above Geonosis and promised to question things. A man who needed a friend.

Without saying a word to anybody, Zeb had volunteered to be that friend. After all, he had known Kallus intimately; that put him in the best position to connect with the hurting ex-Imperial.

Kallus hadn’t remained hurting for long, quickly recovering from his torture – at least physically – and burying himself in Rebel Intelligence work. Determined not to let him lose himself in his work, Zeb started getting up earlier to catch Kallus during his brief free time. 

And so that had led Zeb to where he was now, trekking with Kallus in the pre-dawn rain to a small jungle clearing where they could spar without waking up anyone on the base.

The rain wound its way between strands of fur on Zeb’s arms, cool and refreshing, but a challenge as well: not only would it make sparring more difficult, but seeing Kallus in the rain always distracted Zeb.

He wondered if Kallus was ever distracted by it as well. If he was, he was also very good at hiding that distraction.

“I hear Bridger is still harassing Command,” Kallus said once they reached the clearing, stripping down to bare feet, pants, and his undershirt. 

To match, Zeb took off his armor. They fought with powered-down staves, so he wasn’t in any danger. “Yup,” he said. “His Lothal mission. He’s been after that since before you joined up.” 

Spare clothes tossed aside, Kallus crouched in a ready position with his staff, waiting for Zeb to catch up.

Zeb flicked the switch on his bo-rifle, the purple ends sizzling and crackling in the rain. He watched Kallus for the moment when the human started to move and met him halfway across the clearing, bo-rifle and electrostaff clanging in the dim light, their electric ends casting gold and purple glows on the men’s faces.

“That’s going to be a difficult sell,” Kallus said, picking up their earlier conversation. “Mon Mothma is cautious about doing anything that puts our fleet at risk.”

Zeb pushed and Kallus slid back a little on the muddy ground. “We know.”

Pulling away, Kallus spun and tried to smack Zeb in the toes, but Zeb jumped out of reach. “You’re not planning anything if the Councils says no, are you?”

Zeb pasted an innocent look on his face. “What could we do if the Council says no?” The staves met with an arm-shaking force once more. “Draven has you checking on us?”

“He wishes,” Kallus said, an almost-smile forming. “This is all my own curiosity. If you go back to Lothal, I want to join you.”

Bringing his bo-rifle down from above, Zeb came close to Kallus’s shoulder before the man got his staff up in a defensive position. “You want to go _back_ to Lothal? Thrawn’s still there. You’re still wanted.”

“And you’re not?”

Zeb grinned. “Good point.”

“Mine usually are.” Kallus lashed out with his staff quickly, spinning himself around it so that Zeb couldn’t catch him, and tapped Zeb in the side.

It stung, but nothing more than a ticklish buzz. Zeb took a step back, as did Kallus, both resetting their positions to start again.

“You’re distracted this morning,” Kallus noted. “Usually I wouldn’t have been able to tag you so easily.”

 _How can you not be distracted?_ Zeb wondered. _How can you not think of that desert and the rain there and the cactus and the way I took all of you in my mouth?_

“Maybe a little,” Zeb admitted. “Doesn’t mean I won’t come back and win.”

Kallus laughed, a happy, clear noise as the first light of dawn peeked through the jungle. “I’ll believe that when I see it, Zeb.”

Zeb feinted off to the right, swinging the other end of his bo-rifle around to catch Kallus unaware, but Kallus was too sharp for such a trick.

“We’re making a run today, after I fix the hyperdrive motivator,” Zeb said, dodging a swipe at his waist.

“I know,” Kallus said. “I assigned it to you. Fuel cells.”

Zeb went at Kallus with a punishing rain of blows with the bo-rifle. He was impressed to see Kallus keep up. 

Kallus dropped to the ground suddenly, sliding through the mud and knocking Zeb’s feet out from under him and bringing him to the ground.

Recovering quicker, Kallus straddled Zeb, bringing the pole of his electrostaff down, pressing on Zeb’s chest. Zeb tried to push back but…

…but Kallus’s face was close enough that if Zeb craned his neck just a little, their lips could meet. But Kallus was smiling, free and joyful in his victory like he never was outside the little jungle clearing. But Zeb needed Kallus to get off of him quickly or else he’d have to explain why he was getting hard.

Zeb pushed with all his might, shoving Kallus off and into the mud.

Getting to his feet, Zeb offered Kallus a hand up. “Think you won this morning. I gotta get back to work.”

Kallus frowned, that perfect pout Zeb was used to seeing. “That wasn’t an hour,” he said.

“No,” Zeb said. _It was still too long, too dangerous._ “But you gave us a mission and we gotta get back in time for Ezra to talk to the Council, right?”

Kallus turned off his electrostaff, but still looked disappointed.

“You wanna help me with the motivator?” Zeb offered.

“I do know a little about such things,” Kallus said, almost haughtily, almost imperiously.

Zeb grinned. Kallus’s tone was completely ruined by the mud clinging to him – and Zeb was sure he was equally dirty. “Let’s go rinse off and then see what I can teach you about a hyperdrive motivator.”

Kallus nodded. “That sounds fine.”

Imagining Kallus rinsing off – _pouring cactus water on himself_ – made Zeb’s head spin shortly.

_Ashla help me._

The Yavin IV mess hall provided actual food, but Kallus never visited it except for breakfast; he only visited at breakfast because Zeb forced him to. The Intelligence service caf machine and a store of ration bars in his desk fed him otherwise, despite Zeb’s fussing. 

Kallus was a natural workaholic, which had helped him advance quickly in the ISB and was doing the same in the Rebel Intelligence service. It meant long hours at his desk, staring at datapads and consoles and flimsi, poring over tiny bits of data that might or might not slot into the larger picture.

It helped that he was intricately familiar with the Imperial System. Very few – if any – other defectors had enjoyed his level of clearance. And, though he tried not to be arrogant, very few – if any – other Intelligence officers had his ability to fit the pieces together into something coherent.

All of this added up to a near-endless stream of work for Kallus, with little time for a social life.

 _No_ time for a social life, really. But then again, he hadn’t had a social life since the Academy, so he wasn’t really missing one. Even his morning sparring sessions with Zeb were rationalized away as merely exercise and keeping his fighting skills sharp.

…they had nothing to do with green eyes or a low growl that pulled low in Kallus’s body. 

Nothing at all.

Kallus tabbed through the latest document on his datapad – a partially decrypted cargo manifest for a transport from Jedha – wishing the Rebellion’s slicers had managed to reveal the final location for the kyber crystal shipment.

What did the Empire want with so many kyber crystals? Kallus was tempted to try decrypting the file himself; he wasn’t half bad at slicing, but the Rebellion’s dedicated slicers were better. If they hadn’t found a way to reveal the data, then neither would Kallus.

That knowledge didn’t stop him from wanting to try. There was always the chance he could break through…

“Kallus,” said a cool voice. One of the other Intelligence operatives, a quarren, walked up to his desk. “You’re wanted in the Command Center.”

Kallus blinked, looking up and finding the lights of the Intelligence room a little too bright. “What’s going on?”

The quarren shrugged. “Don’t know, but they want you, so you’d better hurry.”

Kallus quickly shut down and locked his datapad – even on Yavin IV, among fellow Rebels, he was conscious of security – before walking swiftly upstairs to the Command Center behind the main hangar. 

There, waiting for him, were the Spectres – all five of them – as well as the rest of Rebel Command.

Kallus barely noticed that he automatically stood next to Zeb.

“Captain Kallus,” said Mon Mothma in her ever-soft voice. “We are glad you could join us.”

“Senator,” he said, nodding. 

In the middle of the holographic table stood an image of former Governor Ryder Azadi. “The Empire is beginning trials on a new version of the TIE-Defender,” he said, but his next words were garbled beyond understanding. Seconds later, the transmission disappeared.

“Ryder Azadi’s transmission from Lothal was cut off,” Mon Mothma said sadly. “And we haven’t been able to contact him since.”

Kallus glanced at Ezra. The boy was wide-eyed and frowning, focused intently on the spot where Azadi’s image had been.

“I have witnessed the threat of the TIE-Defender first-hand. If there’s been a new development with these fighters, the Rebellion needs to know.” Mon Mothma turned to Kallus. “Captain, you have the latest first-hand knowledge of the Imperial situation on Lothal. What is the likely outcome of a mission to insert commandos onto Lothal?”

Kallus thought for a moment. He knew the answer right away, but hesitated to say it. “Thrawn has locked down the blockade; it would be nearly impossible to get a ship in there, much less two if an extraction is needed.”

“What if we brought the fleet to distract them?” Ezra asked. “We could combine this mission with a liberation–”

Shaking his head, Kallus said, “You’re asking for another Atollon except that _this_ time, Thrawn will be better prepared. He would cut the fleet to shreds. No, a small team on a single, unrecognizable ship would be best, but even if it were successful in transmitting the TIE-Defender data to the Rebellion, there’s no guarantee the team could make it out.”

He knew, he _knew_ , as soon as he spoke that all of the Spectres would volunteer. Kallus closed his eyes as first Ezra, then Hera, then the rest of the team spoke up.

He also knew, in the pit of his stomach, that he if they went, so would he. He couldn’t leave them – couldn’t leave the first people who believed in him – to face the Empire alone.

After Mon Mothma dismissed them, Kallus followed the Spectres into the hallway. Zeb was the only one who noticed at first, moving to the side to let Kallus walk with him, but the rest perked up when Kallus spoke.

“I’m going with you to Lothal.”

Sabine stopped and turned around. “ _You_ want to go to Lothal?” The surprise in her voice told him Zeb hadn’t mentioned his desire to join them. Did he not believe Kallus’s sincerity?

“Can any of you say you know the Imperial Complex better than I do?” Kallus asked.

Ezra raised his hand, but Kallus cut him off.

“You were a cadet for a week, Bridger, but I worked there for three years. I commanded the star destroyers above the planet before Thrawn arrived. _Nobody_ on this moon knows the Imperial presence on Lothal like I do. You need me.”

Kanan crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you argue for the mission with Senator Mothma if you wanted to come?”

“I told the truth in there,” Kallus said. “This mission doesn’t have an optimistic outlook. I’m simply trying to help you even the odds.”

Hera studied Kallus for a minute. “We leave in the morning. Don’t be late.”

Kallus nodded. “Yes, Captain.” He stopped, turning down the hall that would lead to the common bunk he shared with three other men: two pilots who were also defectors and a Security team member.

Behind him, Zeb excused himself from the Spectres. From the sound of heavy footsteps, he was following Kallus.

“Kal.”

He was definitely following Kallus. “What is it, Zeb?”

“Why are you coming with us?”

Kallus slowed, letting Zeb catch up. “What do you mean? I just explained myself.”

“I think there’s more to it,” Zeb said.

Kallus pulled up short outside his bunk. “Zeb, there’s nothing more to it. I’m trying to make sure your team has the best possible chance to get in and _get out_ of Lothal.”

Zeb stood a little higher, looming over Kallus. He placed a hand on the wall by Kallus’s head, trapping Kallus where he was. “You said the mission wasn’t going to succeed and yet you want to go. You sure you’re not just trying to sacrifice yourself so you can feel better about what you did in the Empire?”

Kallus’s breath caught. _Did_ he want to sacrifice himself a little?

Well, he did owe the galaxy quite a bit to make up for the evil he’d done in the ISB. But… “Zeb, you volunteered before I did. Your whole crew did. If I’m self-sacrificing, then so are the rest of you. Why are _you_ going on this mission?”

“For Ezra,” Zeb said simply. “For family. And if I die, at least I died for them. What will you die for?”

“I’ll die doing the right thing for once.”

Zeb laughed, mere centimeters from Kallus’s face, flashes of white fang catching Kallus’s eye. He was so close and yet Kallus couldn’t quite bring himself…

“Kal, you’ve _been_ doing the right thing for over a year now. Time to give yourself a break, huh?”

Kallus looked into Zeb’s big green eyes, remembering them half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust. If Kallus was to give himself a break, he wanted Zeb to be a part of it.

Maybe… maybe if he asked, Zeb would want to sleep with him again. Maybe they could face this suicide mission together, after _being_ together, something more than just mutual blow jobs. It was cliché, last night alive and all that, but Kallus couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time.

Before he said anything, Zeb leaned back and cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. “Take care o’ yourself, Kal. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

Kallus couldn’t help but reach out to Zeb’s retreating form. Unfortunately, he couldn’t call the lasat back anymore than he could will the mission into success.

He dropped his hand and slunk into his bunk.

To Kallus’s dismay, all three of his roommates were there, grinning.

Kallus tried to ignore them, kneeling in front of his footlocker to dig out clothes and supplies to take on the mission.

“So, you’re heading out with the _Ghost_?” asked Coryn, the pilot in the bunk below Kallus’s. 

Kallus glared at him, aggravated at Coryn’s wide grin and knowing the other two would join in any time.

“Spending some time with Captain Orrelios?” asked the other pilot, Otto.

“It’s a mission,” Kallus said snippily. “We’ll be working.”

“Right,” said Coryn. “And that’ll be all.”

Kallus threw clothes into his bag. In the Empire, he’d have folded everything neatly, but he knew his bag would get wrinkled anyway on the _Ghost_ , so he didn’t bother. “It’s a mission to Lothal to get information on the new TIE-Defenders.”

The pilots both went quiet. “There are new trips?” Otto asked, using the pilot’s slang for the dangerous triple-winged TIEs.

“Yes. So the _Ghost_ team is going to try and retrieve the new plans and I’m going to try to keep them alive.” Kallus tried to explain patiently.

“Buuuuuut…” said his last roommate, Zaarin, “Spending time with the lasat’s a perk, right?”

Kallus turned his glare to Zaarin, who wasn’t intimidated in the least.

“Kallus, we all know you like him. You talk about him in your sleep sometimes.”

Cheeks burning, Kallus tried not to think about what he might have said. Talking in his sleep was a dangerous habit he’d never been able to break; he’d been lucky to have his own cabin as an ISB officer while he was Fulcrum. 

“And if I do?” he asked. “It means nothing, so there’s no point teasing me about it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Coryn. “It’s nice to know a vaunted Fulcrum agent is human enough to have a crush.”

“I’m not Fulcrum anymore,” Kallus grumbled. “I’m not Fulcrum and I don’t have a crush.”

All three of his roommates laughed. Kallus zipped up his bag and closed his footlocker.

There. He was ready for the morning.

At least, he was _physically_ ready for the morning. Mentally? The thought of being on a small ship with Zeb was more than a bit daunting.

Rebel Intelligence Captain Alexsandr Kallus could handle daunting, though.

Couldn’t he?

Puffer pigs. Of course they had to pay Vizago in puffer pigs.

Zeb relaxed on his bed, banished to his cabin by Hera because apparently everything about him was terrifying to the puffer pigs: his face, his size, his voice, his smell.

They were two days into their mission and the _Ghost_ was packed; only Sabine had a room to herself. Currently, Kallus and Rex were bunking in Kanan’s room while Kanan stayed with Hera. Zeb and Ezra were in their cabin as normal.

Except Zeb didn’t want things to be normal. He wanted to kick Ezra out and invite Kallus to stay in the cabin with him. 

Kallus had been right: this was a hopeless mission. And with their separation looming – Kallus and Rex to go gather allies, the Spectres to Lothal – Zeb wanted more than just hopelessness. He wanted another chance with Kallus, maybe even a whole night spent with him, having sex and falling asleep in each others’ arms.

It wasn’t going to happen, though. Walls on the _Ghost_ were thin and even if they weren’t, Ezra would know exactly what Zeb wanted if he tried to kick the boy out of the cabin.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in!” Zeb said, expecting one of the Spectres, but his nose told him almost immediately that he was wrong. He sat up. “Kal!”

Kallus slipped in the room and let the door close behind him. “We’re leaving hyperspace in a few minutes,” he said, a slight frown on his face. “You’ve been hiding this whole time. Are you all right?”

Zeb huffed. “I’m fine. It’s the bloody puffer pigs. They don’t like me.”

Kallus nodded as if he understood the reasoning, damn the man. “Are you ready for this mission?” he asked.

That was the first anyone had asked Zeb that. “Yeah,” he said. “Think I’m as ready as I’ll ever get.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He wished more were going to happen with Kallus before the mission and his possible death, but he was prepared for the mission itself and its consequences.

“Right.” Kallus moved to sit next to Zeb. There was silence for a minute. “You know, Zeb…”

Kallus trailed off, so Zeb prompted him to continue. “I know what, Kal?”

Kallus glanced at Zeb’s face then looked away. “I don’t know about you, but I keep thinking about that moon.”

Zeb’s fur ruffled. “The, uh, cactus water, huh?”

Kallus laughed softly. “Yes, the cactus water.”

Zeb knew – they _both_ knew – the cactus water had nothing to do with their increased libidos on that moon. It’d been a way to burn off frustration at being stuck with a nominal enemy. It was a one-time thing.

Unfortunately, Zeb had loved every second of it, even knowing there would never be a repeat.

But if _Kallus_ was thinking about it, maybe…?

“Kal–”

“Zeb–”

They spoke simultaneously and the air felt heavy with potential, as if Kallus would be waiting if Zeb just turned his head.

Zeb side-eyed Kallus instead, watching him without moving. 

Kallus looked away. “Zeb, I keep thinking about it because I enjoyed it. And I know it wasn’t anything special to you, but it was to me.”

Zeb’s heart stuttered. “Why haven’t you brought it up before now?”

“Why haven’t you?” Kallus’s head snapped back around to face Zeb.

Zeb didn’t answer.

Despite Zeb’s reticence, Kallus answered his question. “Because you’re my one true friend in the Rebellion. I don’t know why or how, but you are. And as much as I want to throw you on this bed and kriff you properly, I’m not.”

Kallus was pale as he talked, giving off a scared human smell.

 _He was terrified of how Zeb would react_.

Zeb groaned and reached out, grabbing Kallus’s head, pressing their foreheads together again. “Why did you say that when we’re about to drop out of hyperspace? Why not at the start of the mission? Why not anytime before?”

Kallus’s golden brown eyes stared into Zeb’s and he licked his lips. Zeb recognized the signs of a human gearing up for a kiss, but if Kallus kissed him, Zeb wasn’t going to want to stop.

He placed a finger on Kallus’s lips, not breaking their forehead touch. “Not now,” he said. “When I get back.”

Kallus looked stricken. “And if you don’t come back?”

“Then we’ll always have the rain in the desert, right?” That came out a lot sappier than Zeb meant, but he wasn’t going to try and take it back.

The ship shuddered as it reverted to realspace.

“We will,” Kallus said sadly. “It may be all we ever have.”

Zeb squeezed tighter, pressing their foreheads so hard it almost hurt. “You’re a Rebel now, Kal. Haven’t you heard that we’re supposed to hope?”

The edges of his mouth quirked up. “I have heard that from a coworker or two,” Kallus admitted.

Zeb let go and sat up. “Good. Now we go meet Vizago and get this thing started.”

Kallus’s slight smile turned into a frown. “Cikatro Vizago,” he said with distaste.

“Hey, he kept us going with jobs for years before you came along,” Zeb pointed out. “You shouldn’t have a problem with that now.”

“He’s still distasteful,” Kallus said. With a sad look at Zeb, Kallus stood. “Hera wanted me in the cockpit once we dropped.”

Zeb nodded. “I’ll go find somewhere else to not scare the puffer pigs,” he said.

As he left Zeb’s cabin, Kallus straightened up, arms tucked in the small of his back. 

Zeb leaned in the doorway to the cabins and listened.

“Cikatro Vizago is a criminal. He can’t be trusted,” Kallus said, low and serious.

“Yeah, we used to say that about you,” said Sabine as she passed by Kallus. When she saw Zeb, she gave him a wink.

Zeb shook his head, but smiled.

“What?” she asked as she climbed onto the ladder down to the hold. “It’s true!”

“Yeah,” said Ezra, following her. “If we can trust Kallus, we can trust anyone, right?”

Zeb reached out and ruffled Ezra’s short hair. “We trust people who’ve earned it. And he has.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ezra pushed Zeb’s hand away.

The _Ghost_ shook again as it docked with Vizago’s ship, the _Broken Horn_. From a new spot overlooking the hold, Zeb watched as Vizago’s crew, Ezra, and Sabine off-loaded the puffer pigs.

Rex climbed the ladder and stopped by Zeb.

“So, you’re not going to help?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m not allowed near the filthy beasts.” Zeb moved, jumping into a ‘terrifying’ position. “I scare them! Apparently there’s something wrong with my face.” Rolling his eyes, he pointed at himself.

“Aw,” said Rex, sarcastically. “At least yours is unique.”

“What is that?” Zeb asked. “Clone humor?” As Rex disappeared into the cockpit, Zeb slumped back against the door frame.

A minute later, Hera slid down the ladder. “Ready to go, Zeb?”

Zeb checked that his bo-rifle was securely attached to his back armor. “Ready,” he said, moving to follow her. “You’re actually leaving Kallus and Rex in charge of the _Ghost_? Who’s the captain?”

Hera laughed. “I didn’t specify which one was in command. Going to let them figure that out.”

Zeb shook his head. “Hera, you are evil sometimes.”

“Why, thank you, Zeb,” she said, beaming. “Just wait until you see your disguise.”

Groaning, Zeb shuffled his feet, trying not to imagine what horrible clothes had been cooked up to hide his identity.

When he saw them – and especially the orange hat – Zeb cursed the galaxy. “Why do I have to be so covered up? This is ridiculous.”

“Okay,” said Ezra. “Just stop being lasat, then.”

Zeb grumbled and put on the outfit. 

With luck, they would land on Lothal smoothly and he could dump the disguise.

With even more luck, Chopper wouldn’t take holos and show them to Kallus.

Kallus surveyed the group gathered in the _Ghost_ : Hera, whom he’d pursued for years, three clones he’d tried to kill on Seelos, Hondo Ohnaka, whom he’d almost imprisoned, a Black Sun Syndicate operative, and himself, a former Imperial enforcer.

What a motley group to come to the Spectres’ rescue. However, if time with the Spectres had taught him anything, it was to never underestimate the Rebels and their allies.

For example, Hondo had gotten them through the blockade, despite the insanity of his plan and now they were speeding towards the coordinates Ezra sent.

Quickly, Kallus and the clones moved to the hold, ready to jump as soon as Hera opened the ramp. As Kallus slid down the ladder, the first shots were fired by Hondo from the nose turret.

There was no telling what they’d find when they joined the fray, but Kallus knew that the _Ghost_ would take out a good number of stormtroopers before they even left the ship.

He held his blaster at the ready, breathing slow and steady, preparing himself for battle again.

Hera opened the hold and Kallus followed the clones, running down the ramp and jumping onto the cliffside platform. Finding a good position by Gregor, Kallus knelt, taking aim and shooting as rapidly as he could while still being effective.

Across the way, a flash of color caught his eye: _Zeb_ , in his yellow jumpsuit and green armor. Kallus made a dash towards him, ducking behind some crates between Zeb and Sabine.

A thrill ran through Kallus, one he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the thrill of combat, the thrill of doing something _right_ with people who believed in him.

It had nothing to do with the lasat next to him.

Ezra yelled to fall back to the caves and Kallus obeyed. 

“Don’t worry about the wolves!” Ezra yelled at him.

“The what?” Kallus yelled back, skidding to a stop in the dark of the cave.

Ezra waved his lightsaber, illuminating some of the largest canines Kallus had ever seen.

“Loth-wolves?” he asked, backing up slowly. “I thought they were extinct.”

“Yeah, so did we!” yelled Zeb as he bounded into the cave. Grabbing Kallus’s arm, he dragged him deeper into the caverns.

The thrill Kallus felt only heightened.

The pack of wolves attacked, decimating the stormtroopers. The ones who were left, the Rebels took out.

Kallus found himself fighting next to Zeb – the first time he’d gotten to fight _with_ him, not _against_ him, even in practice. It was exhilarating; Zeb was a trained warrior, just as Kallus was, and though they were only using blasters, they were nearly unstoppable.

Slowly, the last few stormtroopers surrendered.

“I’d drop your weapons if I were you,” Zeb said happily.

The stormtroopers complied.

Accompanied by Ezra, a loth-wolf carried Arihnda Pryce up to Ryder Azadi, as she begged for her life. Zeb and Kallus flanked Azadi, unable to keep from sharing a smile as Pryce was forced to surrender.

As the prisoners were dealt with and the Spectres reunited with Hera, Kallus noticed the loss of Kanan for the first time. Hera had told them of his death, but seeing the Spectres together without him was something of a punch in the gut. Kanan had been the first Spectre other than Zeb to welcome him to the Rebels.

Kallus sighed. Kanan would be missed by more than just his family.

Ezra started outlining a plan – a crazy, impossible plan – to take Lothal itself back, not just defeat Pryce and her men. The logical part of Kallus’s brain didn’t want to believe it possible, but the Rebels had pulled off equally crazy stunts. Maybe this one would work, too.

If not, well, at least he’d die fighting next to Zeb.

Sabine tossed Kallus an outfit: a black, Imperial aide’s uniform. He nodded.

Zeb was lounging next to a crack in the rocks. Kallus brushed his arm as he walked over, sliding through the crack to some relative privacy on the other side.

As he’d hoped, Zeb followed him.

Kallus turned, ready to say something, but Zeb beat him to it.

“Hi, Kal,” he said softly. “Glad you made it.”

Kallus’s heart beat quicker. “Hello, Garazeb.” He waited a beat before continuing. “I’m sorry about Kanan. He was a good man.”

Zeb’s ears drooped. “Yeah. We’re gonna miss ‘im.”

Kallus started to reach out to Zeb, but stopped. He didn’t know what to say, what to do.

Zeb sighed and looked down, giving Kallus the distinct impression he was in need of a distraction.

Suddenly sure of what to do, Kallus walked over and grabbed Zeb’s head, touching foreheads. Zeb wrapped a large hand around the back of Kallus’s head and squeezed them together.

“Zeb,” Kallus said quietly. “I did some research.”

“You? Research? I don’t believe it!” Zeb said, trying to sound cheerful but only partially succeeding.

Kallus fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I hadn’t looked it up before, because I was either an Imperial and it would be suspicious or I’ve been a Rebel and busy working. But waiting for General Syndulla on the _Ghost_ , I had time.” He looked Zeb straight in the eyes. “I know what this means, the forehead touch.”

Zeb started to jerk back but Kallus didn’t let him. 

“I already knew, somewhat. I saw lasat warriors share the gesture during the Siege. But I didn’t know it was meant for _bonded_ warriors.” Kallus blinked slowly, eyes never leaving Zeb’s. “Even back on that moon, you felt something more than just lust, didn’t you?”

“Kal, I–”

“I felt it, too,” Kallus admitted. “You were the reason I started asking questions, the initial impetus behind my defection. And I’ve felt it this entire time, but I never believed you would feel the same – lust, yes, but not _more_ – but then you go and share the _boosahn tinsan_ with me. And you promise me a kiss later.”

Zeb was quiet after Kallus quit talking and he wondered if maybe he’d misjudged things. After a moment, however, Zeb moved quickly, pushing Kallus back up against the rocks. “You’re too smart for your own good,” he said, one hand on Kallus’s chest, holding him in place. “Yes, I felt more. Still do. But don’t tell me you do unless you really mean it.”

As answer, Kallus reached out and pulled Zeb to him, grabbing him by his soft ears, just as he had on that moon, kissing him solidly on the mouth. Zeb’s ears twitched in Kallus’s grip and he kissed back, deep and long. 

That thrill Kallus had felt during battle returned, but this time he fully admitted it was because of Zeb: his company, his acceptance, his touch. “Zeb,” Kallus whispered. “My ankle’s no longer hurt. We have some privacy. Please, will you…”

Zeb pulled back. “Will I what? I want to hear you ask.” His voice was huskier than normal, caught somewhere between arousal and concern.

“Fuck me.” Adrenaline coursed through Kallus’s system as he spoke, eager for Zeb to agree. “Right here. Right now. I want you inside me.”

Large hands encircled Kallus’s waist, gripping just hard enough he could feel claws pressing into his skin. Zeb leaned in to kiss him again.

Kallus took that as a ‘yes.’ Quickly, he pulled off the thick coat he’d been given on Yavin IV, following it with his shirt and pants once Zeb let go of him.

Zeb watched Kallus undress, a hungry expression on his face, and followed suit: armor off, then his jumpsuit, and then he stood there tall, proud, and naked – just as Kallus remembered from that moon. Just as he’d wanted all along.

Oh, he _wanted_.

Just the sight of Zeb’s cock, looking at it again after imagining it so many time, was enough to make Kallus hard. Dark and thick and long, exactly as he remembered. Exactly as he’d pictured while getting himself off in the refresher.

“Down,” he instructed. He intended to ride Zeb quickly and with as much force as he could manage.

Zeb lay back on the rock, propped up on his elbows and watched as Kallus reached out to stroke his cock. Kallus wanted to touch it, to feel those nubs again, but also to collect some of the wet slick that coated everything.

 _Force_ , he couldn’t wait to have that cock inside him.

First, though, he had to prepare himself. First one slick finger, then two, all while Zeb watched and idly stroked himself.

“Stop,” said Zeb.

Kallus did as he was told, confused but willing to trust Zeb.

The lasat crawled over to him and took over the job of opening him up. One large finger, the short stiff furs of his hand rubbing over Kallus’s prostate and pulling a cry from him.

Zeb reached up with his free hand and covered Kallus’s mouth. “Quiet. Don’t want to scar the young’uns.”

Kallus nodded frantically, biting his lips to keep from calling out again as Zeb worked a second finger inside him.

Stars, he’d wanted this. He’d wanted Zeb so desperately that he ached for the lasat to give him more and he mumbled that against Zeb’s hand.

“What’s that?” Zeb asked, moving his hand a little.

“Now. Please, Zeb,” Kallus begged. “It’s so good but I want you. I want more.”

“Ah.” Zeb pulled his fingers out, leaving Kallus feeling empty, too empty. He lay back again and Kallus straddled his waist, purple fur tickling the insides of Kallus’s legs.

Despite his desire to have Zeb inside him _right that moment_ , Kallus positioned himself slowly, sinking down at a gradual but steady pace. 

“Oh _karabast_!” Kallus hissed as the nubs slipped inside him, one by one. 

Zeb laughed, the motion moving him inside Kallus, too.

Kallus gasped, clutching at Zeb’s chest. His ISB training had taught him how to be self-controlled in any number of situations, but having a lasat’s dick in his ass was not one of them.

“Yer soundin’ like me,” Zeb said with a cheeky grin.

Finally bottoming out, Kallus breathed raggedly. He swallowed, trying to wet his throat enough to talk without his voice cracking. He wasn’t very successful, speaking slowly because otherwise he’d give away just how gone he already was. “I am, apparently, impressionable when it comes to you, Garazeb Orrelios. First rebellion, then language.”

Zeb chuckled again, gripping Kallus around the hips, fingers digging into his ass as he helped him start moving: up and down, each stroke garnering gasps and groans from both men.

Kallus’s eyelids drooped in pleasure, though he tried to keep up eye contact with Zeb. Zeb’s blow job on that moon had been the best he’d ever had, but this was even better.

The lasat had _absolutely_ ruined him for anyone else.

One hand splayed on Zeb’s chest, propping him up, Kallus moved his other down to stroke himself as he rode Zeb’s sizeable cock. He was full, so full, and the nubs hit inside him in all the right spaces and oh _stars_ , he was so hard, so ready to burst. The second Zeb moved a hand to cover his own and fur touched Kallus’s dick, he stuttered in his movements. 

He’d bit his tongue, he’d tried to keep his lips pressed together, but there wasn’t a thing Kallus could do as Zeb’s touch brought him to climax. He spilled over both their hands, crying Zeb’s name with nothing to muffle him. “ _Garazeb_!”

Zeb fumbled, almost bringing his hand up to cover Kallus’s mouth again but he stopped when he saw it was covered in Kallus’s come. “Shh,” he hissed, his own voice shaky.

Kallus nodded, biting his lip again, feeling a flush come over his face and chest that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way Zeb moved his hips, fucking him through the aftershocks.

“Gon– gonna come,” Zeb stuttered.

“Do it,” Kallus breathed, nodding.

Zeb moaned, prompting Kallus to reach out and cover _his_ mouth. The lasat smiled behind his hand, eyes rolling upwards as he came.

If Kallus thought he’d been full before, he’d been sorely mistaken. There was enough spend to fill him up and spill out around Zeb’s dick, a brand new sensation. 

Kallus managed to keep quiet that time, but only just barely.

He slumped forward, ignoring the mess they’d made, letting himself flop atop Zeb, letting himself relax completely.

Zeb wrapped arms around him and kissed his cheek. Kallus turned and caught Zeb’s lips with his own.

“Was that like you’d been wantin’?” Zeb asked. 

Kallus leaned against his forehead again. “Zeb, I had no idea what I was asking for, not really, but kriff if I’m not glad I asked.”

“So’m I,” Zeb said, giving him another light kiss.

Suddenly, Zeb’s ears twitched and he frowned. “Ah, they’re wondering where we are,” he said. “Better clean up.”

Kallus sighed. “Can’t just stay here and let them attack the Imperial Complex?”

“No,” Zeb said. “Seem to remember you coming along only because you knew the Imperial Complex better’n the rest of us.”

“Right,” Kallus grumbled. He sat up and reached for his shirt, wiping himself off then handing it to Zeb. “I suppose I can sacrifice this for the rest of the mission.”

He got dressed, pulling on the slightly too-small Imperial uniform with some distaste. Watching Zeb put his armor back on over the jumpsuit was much more pleasant, especially knowing what he looked like underneath.

“Zeb? Kallus?” came Ezra’s voice from the other side of the rocks.

“Hold onto yer nerfs, kid!” Zeb called back. “We’ll be there.”

He walked over to Kallus and grabbed his head again.

This time, Kallus closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth of Zeb’s fur, the feel of claws in his hair, and the smell of lasat that surrounded him.

“This one ain’t a good-bye,” Zeb said. “This is me, hopin’ we do well on the mission. Hopin’ Ezra’s plan doesn’t go wrong.”

“Not a farewell,” Kallus echoed.

“This is just us getting’ started.”

Kallus nodded as best he could while being held. “I want nothing else, Garazeb.”

“Good.” Zeb let go and grinned wide, flashing fangs. “Let’s go kick some Imperials off this planet.”

“Let’s do that,” Kallus repeated, then watched Zeb squeeze back through the crack in the rocks. He rubbed his face and gathered his dirtied clothes, hoping they didn’t smell too strongly of sex, all while muttering to himself. “Time to make up for a lot of wrongs, Alexsandr.”

There would be no self-sacrificing this mission, however. Not when he had, well, _some sort of relationship_ with Zeb to look forward to when it was all over. Not when everything he’d dreamed of was in his grasp.

Kallus stepped through the rocks, preparing himself to face a complex full of former coworkers and subordinates. With Zeb at his side, though, he could – and would – face anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to WhiplashCrash for the help!


End file.
